


sometimes things just don't work out (the way you want them to)

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: (i guess), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Slice of Life, everyone's a garbage fire (what do you expect), theoretical future zeblue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: It’s getting weirdly domestic, like things were getting with Bacta. It’s like being a joylessly married couple that’s never even kissed. They’re best friends, but if Tryst’s honest, it’s dead fucking boring. He’s buried Leenik’s internet history in increasingly niche porn searches, but even that’s not cutting it. Something’s gotta give.(welcome to my incredibly indulgent modern campaign AU)
Relationships: Aava Arek/Trystan "Tryst" Valentine, Aava Arek/Zero, CT-1776 | Bacta/Trystan "Tryst" Valentine, Leenik Geelo/Trystan "Tryst" Valentine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	sometimes things just don't work out (the way you want them to)

**Author's Note:**

> I was finally inspired to continue and post this cuz someone on tumblr requested SW Campaign fic and I remembered this...it's wildly self-indulgent but I'm having the time of my life so hopefully I'll write more lol. Title from Jim Bogart by the Front Bottoms. I hope you enjoy it <3

It’s one in the afternoon and Leenik doesn’t have work today so he and Tryst are baked to fuck, playing Puzzle Bobble on Leenik’s Switch, too transfixed by the game to speak. Tryst basically lives at Leenik’s place since the breakup, and he’s still not sure if he’s allowed at Bacta’s, so he doesn’t try. He only ever really leaves the apartment to do deliveries, when he has the energy.

It’s getting weirdly domestic, like things were getting with Bacta. It’s like being a joylessly married couple that’s never even kissed. They’re best friends, but if Tryst’s honest, it’s dead fucking boring. He’s buried Leenik’s internet history in increasingly niche porn searches, but even that’s not cutting it. Something’s gotta give.

Something does. Tryst wins his fifth round in a row, and Leenik, completely wordlessly, drops his controller and kisses him in an awkward jerky movement. Tryst’s high enough that his mind scrambles for an explanation and comes up with  _ oh fuck he’s an x-man with telepathy and he heard me thinking about being bored _ as he kisses back, eyes sliding closed. 

Time’s broken. Leenik pulls away and Tryst can’t tell if it’s been minutes or seconds. 

“Sorry,” Leenik says, as the game goes back to the menu screen. He scratches the back of his neck really vigorously and stares at the couch.

“No, don’t be,” Tryst says, trying to subtly reach for a pillow to shove over his crotch, even though Leenik is a totally gross kisser, a little too slimy and toothy at the same time, somehow. God, he needs to fuck someone so bad. “Uh, what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” Leenik says, shrugging defensively. He looks up at Tryst, eyes wide, earnest, and bloodshot to hell. “I just--” He looks away again and shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“O...kay…” Tryst says, nodding slowly and reaching out to tentatively pat Leenik on the shoulder, but Leenik flinches away before he can reach.

“I think I just need to sleep, actually,” Leenik says, eyes fixed on the small spot of bare couch between them.

“Too high?”

“Yeah,” Leenik says, nodding vigorously. “ _ Way _ . Too high. Obviously.” He laughs nervously and breathlessly, the laugh he does for show in public when he makes a bad joke, pauses for a moment, and then gets up and steadies himself on the couch, all but bolting to his bedroom.

Tryst stretches out on the couch, confused about what just happened but not too concerned cuz Leenik’s always squirrelly and this is gonna be real hazey for both of them in no time, and texts Aava.

_ u up?  _ is how he starts every text conversation with her, regardless of time.

**no**

_ awww _

**sorry babe but zero’s over**

_ grooooooosssssss _

**extremely**

_ aava i haven’t gotten laid in centuries. aeons. millennia. _

**that sucks**

_ i hate you _

Less than a minute later, she snapchats him a video of what is presumably Zero eating her out. She beams into the camera and flashes a peace sign. Tryst hates both of them.

He’s never met Zero, actually, never even seen the guy’s face, doesn’t even know his real name. Aava just calls him Zero. Tryst figures it’s probably a kink thing. It’s also fair to keep him separate from Tryst. Tryst doesn’t do love, not anymore at least, but if it removed the inconvenience of having to share Aava, he’d probably fight the guy.

Tryst sends back a very low effort dick pic, for literally no reason other than that he can and he’s suddenly so fucking bored again. He’s in the mood to either black out or go out and start a fight, and it’s kind of itching through his body, compelling him to do something fucking stupid.

He doesn’t let himself think about it. He calls Bacta.

Bacta answers with a questioning hello, like he didn’t see Tryst’s name on the caller ID. Or maybe he deleted Tryst’s number. A weird cold nausea starts in the pit of Tryst’s stomach.

“Hey, man, it’s me,” Tryst says, rubbing his face, and then cursing himself. _ Man? _ God, what is he, a middle aged rich dad talking to his yacht club friends?

“Tryst,” Bacta says, simply, and Tryst can almost hear the resigned nod. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“Uh...nothing in particular, I just...missed you,” Tryst says, then hastily adds, “and Tamlin. Was wondering what you guys were up to.” 

“Not much,” Bacta says. “Took him to the park earlier but the kid wears himself out so fast. He’s dead asleep.”

“Can I take you guys out for dinner later or something? It’s been a while since I’ve seen him,” Tryst says, closing his eyes and digging his nails into his leg. How fucked up is he that  _ this _ is the most destructive behavior he can muster? Vuvu would laugh him out of the room.

“Yeah, uh...thanks for the offer, buddy, really, but I don’t know if that’s a great idea,” Bacta says, and the anxious nausea in Tryst’s stomach heats up into anger. 

“Why not,” Tryst says, tone cold.

“Well, first off, are you drunk right now?” Bacta asks, an edge in his voice that makes Tryst wanna smash something.

“No, actually, thanks.”

“High, then,” Bacta says, and it’s not a question.

“What does--”

“You don’t care about Tamlin, you’re just lonely and you think--” Bacta starts.

“Okay,  _ fuck _ you, Bacta, I love that kid, and you--” Tryst shouts, louder than he intended, and sits up, angrily pointing into empty space.

“I’m hanging up, Trystan.”

“Fine! Fucking hang up, because you’re a saint and--” The phone beeps. Tryst throws the phone across the room, leaving a black mark on the wall from his case, and falls back, curling on his side and hugging his legs.

“The hell’s going on?” Leenik asks, groggily, hanging out the doorway to his bedroom.

“Nothing,” Tryst says, pointedly, and Leenik sighs.

“Fine. Fair enough.” He sits on Tryst’s feet and looks down at him. “Wanna go do something?”

“Like what,” Tryst says.

“Dunno. Karaoke. Karaoke in drag. Ooh! I can do clown makeup on you and you can scare the shit out of kids at the park!” Leenik says, eyes lighting up, and Tryst smiles despite himself.

“How about--” he starts, and Leenik smiles.

“You wanna play Thieves Guild?” he asks, and Tryst nods.

“Hell yeah,” he says, and Leenik fistbumps him.

“It’s been  _ forever _ ,” Leenik says, beaming. “Stakes?”

“Loser chugs three 4Lokos.”

“Without puking?” Leenik asks, brow furrowing in concern.

“Puking’s optional.”

“Got it.”

***

Tryst leaves the mall with Pokemon Sun, new sunglasses, $35 in cash, and a pizza and heads to the back parking lot, ready to overexaggerate the worth of every single item in the interest of winning. It doesn’t really matter, though, because Leenik seems to have forgotten the competition, see-through backpack full of stolen shit on the ground next to him.

He’s crouching next to a massive, super feral-looking dog, hand outstretched, and the dog is licking it with reckless abandon, making some kind of contented growling sound in its throat. 

“ _ Tryst _ ,” Leenik says, turning back to Tryst beaming and wide-eyed. Tryst opens his mouth to start some kind of protest, or something. “Tryst, before you say no, consider that it’s my apartment and that  _ I love him _ .”

“I...he looks kinda...rabid,” Tryst says, taking a small step back as the dog turns his either very murderous or incredibly euphoric gaze his direction.

“You take that  _ back _ ,” Leenik says, narrowing his eyes at Tryst. “His name is Tony Wolfboy and he’s my son.”

“He’s... _ Tony _ ?” Tryst says, squinting at Leenik. “That’s...you’re joking, right?”

“Tony is a perfectly fine name,” Leenik says, standing up and crossing his arms, straightening up to his full height.

His full height is several inches shorter than Tryst and Tryst suppresses a snort. “For a  _ dog _ ?”

“For a son.”

“I feel like you should call animal control or something, isn’t it illegal to just...take a random dog?” Tryst asks, nervously sideeyeing Tony as he growls softly in Tryst’s direction.

“Again-- _ not _ a random dog. My son. Also are you...are you really asking me if something’s illegal? Really?” Leenik asks, squinting at Tryst. “You literally--”

“Okay, fair point,” Tryst says, putting his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. It’s your apartment.” He gets a little closer to Tony and crouches, putting his hand out. “Hey, buddy.” Tony snarls at him and snaps at his hand. Tryst only barely pulls it back in time. “ _ Jesus _ .”

“He can sense assholes,” Leenik says. 

“Takes one to know one, I guess,” Tryst mutters, standing up. “So what’s your haul?”

“A few pairs of pride socks, $45 worth of lipstick, a couple rings, and a shitton of candy,” Leenik says. 

“Oh, I  _ super _ win,” Tryst says, smirking down at Leenik. 

“How’d you steal a pizza?” Leenik asks, raising his eyebrows at Tryst. 

“A lady never tells,” Tryst says, putting an arm on Leenik’s shoulder and leaning on it. “Do you wanna go home to suffer being the loser or would you rather it be public.”

“You remember what happened last time we got fucked up in public,” Leenik says, and Tryst squints, trying to remember, but just getting a big ol’ ‘footage not found’. “Y’know, with the horse?” 

“Uh,” Tryst says, desperately searching his mind. “Please tell me I didn’t blow a horse.”

“You didn’t,” Leenik says. “You kept talking about it though. Like, somehow you heard about Catherine the Great and you wouldn’t shut up about it. And the owner was super weirded out and called the cops.”

“Ohhhh,  _ right _ ,” Tryst says, memory fragments coming back to him. “Yeah, home’s sounding good. Do you...do you have any way to control that thing?”

“My  _ son _ , Trystan,” Leenik says, sternly, face completely set. Tryst can’t tell if he’s joking and it’s getting a little disconcerting. “My son does not need a leash. But also no, I don’t have one.”

“Then…”

“He’ll follow his mother,” Leenik says, shrugging. “Won’t you, Tony?” Tony barks and nuzzles into Leenik’s hand. 

***

Tryst wakes up on a couch that isn’t Leenik’s. It takes him a minute to realize where he is. He’s blinking the blinding pain and dizziness out of his head, trying to figure out if he’s still drunk or not, and then it all hits him at once, along with the smell of eggs making him nauseous as all fuck--he’s at Bacta’s.

_ Fuck.  _

He sits up, slowly, grateful that he retained all his clothing, somehow, and rubs his face. Maybe he can go quietly, and this won’t be a whole thing. The second he stands up, though, Tamlin comes charging out of the kitchen and attaches himself to Tryst’s legs.

“Uncle Tryst!” he shrieks, and the sound is  _ murder _ . 

“Hey, buddy,” Tryst says, and it barely comes out, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

“Good!” Tamlin says, beaming up at Tryst. “Are you gonna have breakfast with us?”

Bacta appears in the entrance to the kitchen, leaning on the wall with a cup of coffee. “I don’t think he can, sorry, Tama. You said you had plans, right?” He stares  _ knives _ into Tryst, and Tryst can’t help but smirk back at him.

“Actually, I don’t!” Tryst says. “Fling canceled on me.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and waves it. If Bacta’s gonna bullshit, Tryst can bullshit back just as hard.

Bacta sighs, loudly, and turns back into the kitchen, throwing a “Fine, then come help cook” back over his shoulder. 

Tryst ruffles the kid’s hair, gently detaches him, and follows Bacta. As soon as he enters the kitchen, a buff woman with short brown hair and a vicious flat glare who he’s literally never seen before shoves a cup of coffee into his hands.

“Uh, hi?” Tryst says, giving her a weak smile. She just scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning back to the stove. “Who...are you?”

“Lyn,” she says.

“My new girlfriend,” Bacta says, flatly.

“ _ What _ ?” Tryst blurts, despite himself.

“Ew, Bacta,” Lyn says, turning to him and crossing her arms. “Even to fuck with him,  _ no _ .”

“Sorry,” Bacta says. “Lyn’s my new roommate. Helps me with Tam.”

“Oh,” Tryst says. “So, uh. How...how bad was it.”

Bacta sighs. “Wasn’t great, I won’t lie.”

“You were mostly unintelligible, so it was mostly harmless,” Lyn says.

“Just embarrassing for everyone involved, really,” Bacta says, shrugging. 

“Why’d you let me in?” Tryst asks, hugging himself with one arm and gulping down as much coffee as he can in one.

“Didn’t wanna just...leave you out there,” Bacta says, softly. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Thanks,” Tryst says, and he means it to be sarcastic, but it ends up coming out just as soft. 

“So, uh, how’s Leenik?” Bacta asks, and Tryst shrugs.

“Same as ever. He just brought a feral dog home, so that’s fun,” Tryst says. 

“Sounds about right. Your sisters?”

“You’d probably know more about how Vuvu’s doing than I do,” Tryst says, smirking at Bacta, who blushes slightly. 

“And Aava?” 

“Y’know,” Tryst says, shrugging again. 

“I mean, I don’t,” Bacta says. “But I guess I don’t really care.”

“Isn’t Aava the one who’s trying to get custody of Tam?” Lyn asks, turning back and squinting.

“Yeah. She’s Tryst’s, uh...friend with--” Bacta starts, but Tryst cuts him off with “Fuckbuddy.”

“Great,” Lyn says, nodding once, slowly.

“Where are you  _ from _ ?” Tryst asks, squinting at Lyn. “Like what is that  _ accent _ ? It’s nuts.”

“That’s...rude,” Lyn says, squinting back at him, “I think. Where are  _ you _ from?”

“New Mexico, baby,” Tryst says, cocking his head and putting on his best Charming Smile. “Nothin’ but sand, scorpions, and really unfortunate hospital visits due to the above.”

“Charming.”

“What I’m saying is don’t have sex outside in New Mexico.”

“Got it,” Lyn says. 

“Oh, no, it’s not a personal experience thing, my sister--” Tryst starts, putting a hand out to defend himself from her disgusted glare.

“I really don’t want to hear about it,” Lyn says, and Tryst shrugs.

“Your loss.”

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback is appreciated, I'd love to know if anyone actually wants more of this lol


End file.
